


just pretending to know

by My_King_And_Your_Lionheart



Series: blame it on the stardust [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bruises, Character Study, Cuddling & Snuggling, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Aid, Five Stages of Grief, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Keith (Voltron) Backstory, Let! Boys! Cry!, Orphans, Panic Attacks, Tattoos, There's A Tag For That, boys crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12203496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_King_And_Your_Lionheart/pseuds/My_King_And_Your_Lionheart
Summary: Keith has Ink(TM) and the other paladins haven't realized it before





	1. won't even know your name

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Anybody Have A Map from Dear Evan Hansen
> 
> I had enough people tell me they wanted m o r e, and frankly, I loved working on the AU, so why not keep it going?
> 
> (thanks izzythebaka for reminding me to tell y'all that the timeline is not linear im kinda just writing these as the characters come for me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He promised.” The words are low and soft, and the only way Lance is sure they were spoken at all is because Keith is looking at him now. “Why does everyone leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you watched season 4 and are feelin some kind of way about it so you take it out on Keith (who needs his rest but doesn't get it here whoops) (hbd Keith u don't deserve this :( )
> 
> unbeta'd lmk about mistakes pls
> 
> chapter title form praying by kesha

Lance is almost entirely sure he called the training deck for this afternoon. He checks the color-coded calendar next to the observation deck, and – yup. There’s his aqua blue, the color filling up the next couple vargas. Decidedly not Keith’s flame red, but that isn’t stopping the other paladin from being in the training room. Lance lets out an annoyed whine before walking over to the door. This is his time, damn it!

Lance opens the door and steps just inside the training room. The Altean technology slides shut silently behind him. Keith is in his paladin armor – Lance doesn’t know if Keith’s taken it off – if Keith’s even slept – since Shiro disappeared three days prior. Lance is sure the only reason the red paladin isn’t out scanning the debris again for Shiro is because Allura shut down the red lion’s hangar. Keith is effectively on the no-fly list; at least, until he finds a way to get the bay doors open, Allura’s permission be damned.

Now that he’s in the training room, Lance can hear Keith yelling. He’s up against the training bot, but it must be one of the higher levels because both ends of its staff have blades that look wickedly sharp. There’s a wound on Keith’s right arm already bleeding sluggishly. The bot has Keith on the defensive end with another flying and with another flurry of attacks, the bot sends Keith flying onto his ass. Lance is pretty sure the last strike across Keith’s chest pierced the under armor. There’s more blood on the floor than there was a second ago, anyway. Lance doesn’t waste any time.

“End training sequence!” The bot deactivates immediately, walking away from the boy still sprawled on the floor to stand against the wall. Lance is next to Keith in seconds, kneels at his side only to find the other paladin crying on the floor. If Lance is being honest, he doesn’t know what to do. Keith has always been so indestructible, so… untouchable. Seeing him like this feels too intimate with the precedent of all their previous interactions. First thing’s first, though – Keith is still bleeding all over the floor. Gross. “Come on, buddy.” Lance grabs Keith’s arm and slings it over his own shoulders. “Up you go.”

It doesn’t take long to get to the med bay, and Keith has mostly stopped crying by then; now he’s just vacant, checked out from reality. Lance hates it. He collects some bandages, antiseptic, and wound glue. Keith is still out of it when Lance places the supplies on the bench next to him. Since he’s still not moving, Lance starts gently removing the outer shell of Keith’s arm guards and chest plates. Jeez, this boy is small. Lance is just about to get the upper part of Keith’s under armor off because Keith is _still_ bleeding (what the hell?) when Keith speaks.

“He promised.” The words are low and soft, and the only way Lance is sure they were spoken at all is because Keith is looking at him now. “Why does everyone leave?” The question leaves Lance speechless. He’s abruptly reminded of Keith’s parents, of Shiro, now twice taken from Keith with no warning. Lance hasn’t dealt with grief like this before, not without his own family to help him, but the paladins are basically his second family now, right? They’ve nearly died enough times together that Lance considers them close as blood. To buy himself some time, Lance rips some of the cloth from one of the bandage rolls and pours some antiseptic on it. He pulls the sleeve of Keith’s compression suit mostly off, leaving it rolled down around his forearm, taking care to be gentle.

“I don’t know, Keith.” Lance dabs at the newly revealed wound on Keith’s upper arm, and the other boy barely flinches, even though Lance knows that it has to hurt like hell. The blood is slowing down though, even if the one on Keith’s chest is still going strong. Lance is pretty sure these cuts are going to scar. “I really don’t know.” Lance doesn’t say anything about the tears he can see falling down Keith’s cheeks again, even though he feels like he should. This was always Shiro’s job, taking care of Keith. Lance wraps a fresh bandage around Keith’s arm once the wound is fully cleaned, and the cloth doesn’t stain all the way through with blood, so Lance counts it as a minor victory. Now for the bigger one. “Can you take the rest of your chest panel off? I want to make sure this one’s clean.” Keith’s movements are mechanical: the rest of his right sleeve is pulled off and. Wait a second. Is that a tattoo? Stop the presses, Lance’s world is rocked.

Keith is pulling the other sleeve off, and Lance can see more tattoos trailing down Keith’s left arm. Lance doesn’t know how he hasn’t seen these before, then considers how Keith has always worn his jacket or armor, never short sleeves. Keith hunches his shoulders when he peels off the chest protector, and Lance can see more black spots and swirls on his shoulder. Lance lets himself keep looking at the tattoos as he cleans the chest wound. He can see a Star Wars reference, and even though the handwriting is mismatched Lance appreciates how it looks. The X-Files reference is barely surprising, with Keith’s shack on Earth reeking of conspiracy theories and cover-ups. There’s a line of what Lance can only assume are planets at his wrist, ink laid over tendons and muscle.

“For what it’s worth, Keith, I don’t think they wanted to.” They’re the same words Lance’s mama has said to him when a family member died. Lance remembers the phrase becoming a comfort to him. Keith, it turns out, does not share the sentiment. The heaving sobs start anew and Lance is officially out of his depth. _When all else fails_ , he thinks, and sits on the cot next to Keith, pulling the other boy into a hug, mindful of the still open chest wound, and tucks Keith’s head under his chin.

“What did I do wrong?” Keith is starting to shake in his arms and he’s alarmingly pale and cold. Lance should really put him in a pod, but the pods need Allura or Coran to start it up and calibrate it for a half-Galra. Getting Allura or Coran to the med bay without alarming anybody in the castle is a no-go, particularly when it will require an explanation he isn’t ready to give, not when it’s so obviously Keith’s story to tell.  He’s saved the trouble when the med bay doors swish open.

Coran doesn’t seem too shocked to see them, and Lance thinks he should look a little more surprised when Keith looks halfway to death’s door, covered in his own blood. Keith is limp in his arms, still crying but he seems worn out, like he doesn’t even have the energy to stop the tears from coming. Coran summons a pod from the floor and turns back to the two paladins. Lance is still too shaken to stop the Altean from taking Keith form his arms. He deposits Keith into the pod and the red paladin can’t even fight him. Lance is pretty sure it’s the first time Lance has ever seen Keith too weak to even fight. The heavy realization of that gives makes his joints unfreeze enough to unfold from his place on the cot. Coran closes the pod, and fiddles with a few things on the touch screen before the pod lights up a cool blue, and Keith’s vitals get displayed on a screen.

“Uh, Coran?” Lance really doesn’t want an awkward conversation right now, and hopefully Coran won’t ask too many questions.

“Yes, m’boy?” Coran turns to face him, but the smile on his face isn’t quite reaching his eyes. Lance can relate.

“If we could, y’know, not talk about thi-” Coran cuts Lance off with a clap to his shoulder.

“Lance, it’s okay.” Coran’s grip is iron on his shoulder, and Lance can feel his bones creak. “Keith has already divulged the secrets of his markings to me. How astounded I was, to know that even though humans are not born with markings as Alteans are, but can choose to have them put permanently onto their skin!” Lance can tell Coran is letting him dodge the situation, and he couldn’t be more thankful. Keith doesn’t deserve them talking behind his back. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Yeah, it really is pretty cool. We’ll have to ask him more about them when he gets out of there.” Lance lets out a weak chuckle, and Coran squeezes once more (Lance is positive he’ll have a handprint bruised into his shoulder tomorrow morning), and leave the room. Lance turns back to the pod Keith’s in. He’s so still. Lance places his hand on the thin glass separating him from Keith. Separating Keith from the world.

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” Lance lets his hand fall and walks out of the medbay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that Keith has had his shirt off and that he's worn his T-shirt once or twice on the show, but frankly, this is an AU, so I kinda don't care. Whoops.
> 
> This was a little sad for me to write, but this whole AU is kind of sad, so I'm sticking with the theme haha. Also, Lance is a doozy for me to write, and I'm not certain I got him right, but I tried my best! Let me know how I did.
> 
> Aside from that, hope y'all enjoyed! Leave a comment or a kudos, please! They keep me motivated and writing :)


	2. it's hard to be brave when you're alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura doesn't entirely understand humans, but now she understands this one a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to emotionally harm my poor orphan children whom I love very much!!! But yeah I felt like in show Allura didn't get to emote properly after basically killing her holo-dad. Let my princess cry!!!!!
> 
> Not beta'd all mistakes are mine, lmk if anything's too messed up. thanks y'all
> 
> chapter title from nightmares by all time low

Allura was sitting in the observation deck when she heard the door slide open behind her. Someone comes in on light footsteps, and Allura doesn’t have to turn to know who it is.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Coran.” Allura looks down at her hands, folded in her lap. “It hand to be done,” one tear falls onto her clasped hands, followed quickly by another, “And Father would have done the same thing.” Her hands come up to her eyes, trying to hold back the tears as she waits for Coran to leave. Instead, the door slides shut, and the footsteps advance behind her. She doesn’t pull her hands from her eyes, even as Coran sits next to her and puts his arms around her.

“You don’t have to talk,” and what a shock, to hear Keith’s voice speaking so gently, “But you shouldn’t be alone.” Allura freezes in Keith’s arms before collapsing into him. He tightens his grip on her, tucking her head under his chin as Allura cries into the collar of his shirt.

This is the only time, Allura bargains with herself, that she will mourn her father like this. After this, she will once again be the princess the paladins know her as, untouchable and noble. Allura is still very young, even if she’s ten thousand years older than the destruction of her people, her planet. Coran is older still than her, and has lost so many people in his life. Allura feels a spark of anger in her chest, burning despite the depth of her grief, the unending wave of her tears. What does this boy in front of her know of loss? He has a planet to return to, no doubt parents who miss him greatly. With an effort Allura thinks is too great for the act, she pushes Keith harshly away from her.

“Why are you here?” The words are still wobbly and wet, diminishing the colder tone she tried for. “It’s a sleep cycle.” Her voice hardens, finding more rage to catch on fire and temper her voice. “You shouldn’t be here; we have a mission tomorrow.” Keith’s arms retract from where they were still outstretched, ready to hold her in her grief. They wrap around himself, instead, knotting themselves in that jacket he never seems to take off. “Well?” Keith shrinks further into himself at the bite.

“You shouldn’t be alone.” He repeats himself, and Allura feels the rage ratchet higher. What does this child know of loneliness? Is he the last of his species, left only with an advisor, lightyears from the ruin of his planet, in the shell of a home he’d once known? “You shouldn’t be alone.” No matter what may happen, Allura is alone, and no amount of hugging or comfort would change that.

“Actually, I’d much prefer to be alone, right now. I couldn’t expect you to understand, so please leave.” Keith’s hands tightened in his jacket, his knuckles bleached of color, but made no move to stand. “What don’t you understand?” Allura was well aware she was yelling, but she couldn’t find it in her to lower her voice. “Leave me!” Something in Keith’s eyes hardened before he stood. Instead of leaving like Allura wanted, he took his jacket off, leaving himself in a black t-shirt. Allura’s mouth opened to tell him off again, but she stopped. There on his skin, clear as anything, were markings. The black stood out on his skin, rippling up and down his arms as he set his hands on the floor to sit down again.

“I lost my parents, too.” Allura’s mouth shut with a click. “They blew up, right in front of me, the both of them.” Allura’s eyes found their way up from the marks on Keith’s arms to stare into his eyes. “Before that, my father left me. And before that, my mother left me.” Allura was only slightly confused by the way he phrased his words. Whenever Lance spoke, it seemed as though he only had one set of parents. Keith wasn’t stopping for her, though. “This was my mana,” he twisted his left arm around to show her the outside of his forearm. There were markings there, twisted elegantly into each other. “This was my baba.” Keith’s finger trailed from the delicate marks a little way up his arm toward his elbow, stopping to point at harsh lines and angles, so different to the first set of swirls, but just as captivatingly beautiful.

“Who is this?” Allura’s finger landed gently on the mark squished between the two Keith had shown her. He swallowed. “And why is it not on your other arm, if you were born with them?” Keith looked up at her from wherever he had been lost, confusion clear on his face.

“Born with? No, I got these professionally done.” Allura realized she still had her fingers on Keith’s arm, and pulled the offending hand back into her lap. “Humans aren’t like Alteans; we can get tattoos inked into our skin, but we aren’t born with any.” Keith’s hand covered the markings, the tattoos, he’d called them. “But, uh, yeah. They died, maybe, a year and a half ago?” He shrugs. “But I had Shiro to support me… but when I lost him, I didn’t have anybody.” Keith’s other hand came up to grip at his right arm. “You shouldn’t be alone.” There were tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I acted unfairly to you-”

“Allura,” and what a gentle smile, so like her father had given her when she was just a little girl, “It’s okay. I get it.” Keith opened his arms again, so clearly offering himself to be Allura’s comfort that she collapsed against him once more; this time, she allowed herself to be comforted by her friend. She may have lost her planet, her people, her father, but maybe she didn’t have to be alone. Keith hugged her tighter, and Allura let herself be held. She could be a princess again later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. the gold-hearted boy i used to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this actually ended up much happier than was the original plan but i can't say im too disappointed about it
> 
> Anyway, unbeta'd, you know the drill, lmk if i made mistakes
> 
> chapter title from all these things i've done by the killers

Pidge remembers the stories Matt used to tell her about Keith and Shiro whenever he came home for long weekends or holiday breaks. So many of those stories don’t match up with the paladins in front of her, but there are moments where the past peaks through the trauma and she can believe it. Like now. Keith is leaning slightly into Shiro where they’re sitting next to each other; Shiro had dodged a hug from Hunk earlier, his hands barely shaking, but now he’s curled himself around Keith’s weak spots, protecting his back and neck.

Pidge thinks about what Keith said earlier. Maybe not everyone in the universe had families. Who did Keith have, after all? His biological parents were gone by the time he’d hit double digits in age, and then his adoptive parents, dead before he had a chance to graduate from the Garrison. So different from Pidge, with her parents invested in her life since before she could remember, and her brother, who’d always been there for her.

Looking at Keith now, the way he’s holding Shiro just as tightly as Shiro is holding onto him, Pidge wants the paladins to be her family away from Earth. As much as she wanted to leave earlier, to find her brother, her father, she can’t help but think she would’ve been back within a week because of how much she would have missed them all. Her brother might be the most important person in her life, but Keith was right: a universe needed them. She’d find him, she swore it to herself, but she wouldn’t forsake her newly found family in the process. Not when they all needed each other so very much.

* * *

 It takes a while for them all to uncurl from each other, and Pidge’s legs have long since fallen asleep underneath her where she’s sitting in front of Lance’s healing pod. Hunk stretches his arms over his head and Keith startles at the discordant pops and cracks that come from his spine. Shiro rolls his neck, joints crackling; Pidge can’t help but join in the trend they’ve started, cracking her knuckles with a sharp sound. Keith has a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth even as his eyes never leave Shiro’s.

“That a challenge, Shiro?” The gleam in Keith’s eyes in dangerously playful. He twists in his seat, vertebrae cracking like a xylophone down his spine. Shiro is stock still, mouth slightly open, watching Keith stand. Keith drops into a sharp squat, and both of his knees let out a sharp popping sound before he rises again.

“Keith, come on, that’s a little gross.” Hunk’s voice from her left makes her turn to look just as another sharp crack comes from Keith’s body. “Keith, please, your body shouldn’t make those sounds.” With a final roll of his neck, Keith shakes out his limbs in what must be the most ungraceful display Pidge has ever seen him take part in. He looks a little like a penguin trying to find his balance.

Pidge isn’t sure if it’s this thought, or the stress of the whole day, or that it’s the equivalent of the very early morning, or maybe all of it combined that makes her start laughing. Once she’s started, she finds she can’t stop, even as the others join in and her sides start to hurt. She pries her eyes open from where she’s shut them in her laughter and finds Hunk in a pile on the ground, hands gripping his sides. Her eyes find Keith where he’s bent at the waist, head resting on Shiro’s shoulder, Shiro himself curled over his lap. Pidge has to look a second longer to realize that they’re holding each other’s hands. The pair of them get under control first, still leaning on each other, even as they let go of each other.

“I’m gonna go hit the showers,” Keith’s voice is still breathy. He clears his throat and the next words sound more normal. “Allura, let us know if anything happens?” His gaze slides past the princess to where Lance is suspended in the pod and his brow creases. Lance had stabilized an hour or two ago and Allura had told them to rest, that he was on his way to full recovery and shouldn’t have any other trouble. Still, seeing him unconscious in Shiro’s arms had shaken all of them.

"Of course, Keith." She looks at the rest of them. "You should all wash, and rest. I'll make sure nothing happens to him." Shiro rocks to his feet before draping an arm around Keith's shoulders. 

"Thanks, Allura. We'll be back as soon as we're done." Keith uses the grip Shiro has on him to tug the older paladin in the direction of the rooms Allura had given them all. Pidge doesn't want to think about what they're about to get up to. She shakes her head and holds her hand out to Hunk, who's still on the floor. 

"C'mon, before they steal all the hot water." Hunk takes her hand as Allura turns back to the screen displaying Lance's vitals. 

* * *

~~~~She takes her time washing up, lets the hot water soothe the aching muscles that grew stiff as they waited for Lance to become stable. There are soft sleep clothes folded in the closet drawer, a gentle green to match her paladin armor. The slippers sitting innocently in the bottom of the drawer are enough to make her laugh again. The pajamas are warm enough that some thin socks are all she wants on her feet, even if wearing Green Lion slippers would be hilarious.

Pidge isn't surprised to see Hunk sitting in front of Lance's pod when she gets back to the infirmary. He's wearing his own set of pajamas, a honeyed yellow that makes Pidge want to hug him tight. There's nothing stopping her, and if she's honest, Hunk looks like he could use the comfort. 

He startles a little when she wraps her arms around him, her fingers twisting themselves into his shirt as she squeezes. His arms come around her, crushing her in a bear hug that lets Hunk hide his face in the crook of his neck. There are no tears, but his breaths are slightly shaky. Pidge doesn't say anything, just squeezes her friend tighter. Hunk only pulls away when the doors swoosh open, and Pidge can hear Keith and Shiro come in. 

"How're you guys holding up?" That's Shiro, his arms coming to wrap around their shoulders in an almost hug, but he's gentle, not gripping the way Pidge is. He's wearing his usual bodysuit, the fabric soft against Pidge's cheek when she leans her head against his forearm. Keith walks over to Lance's pod and lets his hand rest against the glass. He's in his black shirt and deep red pants. His feet are bare. There's something along his arms, too, but Pidge's glasses slid down her nose during the hug and she can't be bothered to adjust them right now. Not when she's pretty sure Hunk has started snoring. 

"I think he's asleep." Her voice is too loud for the silence they were all lost in, and Shiro's grip tightens when Keith's shoulders draw up close to his ears before they relax again. He comes over to them after looking over Lance’s vitals, crouches down opposite Shiro and lets Hunk fall into the cradle of his chest. Pidge disentangles herself from the sleeping paladin but Shiro keeps an arm around her.

When Keith lifts Hunk in his arms, Hunk wakes up just enough to help Keith get him to the couch, promptly passing right back out once he’s horizontal. Keith pulls an Altean blanket over Hunk, who snuggles into the soft knit. Shiro leads Pidge over to sit next to Hunk, gives her a small motion to wait.

“Come on, Keith. Time for bed.” Shiro’s voice is soft and warm, and Pidge can feel her eyelids drooping, though she didn’t think she was that tired. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Keith sits between Shiro’s legs, lets himself lay against the older paladin’s chest. Shiro kisses the top of his head and Pidge spares a small want to have that sort of comfortable intimacy with someone one day when they finally make it back to Earth. Keith hums low in his throat.

“You ready to sleep, Pidge?” It takes a second to register Keith’s voice, sleep soft as it is. Nevertheless, his open arms are unmistakable and Pidge wastes enough time to grab them a few blankets before settling against Keith. He’s softer than he looks, and Pidge is grateful he’s not bony enough for his collarbone, sharp as it is, to be uncomfortable against the back of her head.

“Yeah. I’m good.” She tucks the blanket around the three of them. Keith hums again, and the vibrations tickle Pidge’s chest.  Keith’s arms close around her, and she takes the opportunity to lace her fingers through his. She’s half expecting him to pull away, close off like he usually does anytime any of them get too close, so she’s surprised when he squeezes her hand. Her free hand comes up to her face to take off her glasses as she squeezes back. The frames go on the flat top of the couch, where she’s positive they won’t fall. The black marks on Keith’s arms have resolved themselves into tattoos, and Pidge has hacked into enough failed Garrison missions to recognize Eliana Lucio and Chandra Tobias’s handwriting, and from their few hours in his shack, what can only be Keith’s lettering squished in between. There’s more than just a Star Wars reference on his skin; X-Files is there, and simple renderings of the planets they knew before a giant blue robot lion took them light years from home.

In the morning, Pidge will wake up mostly alone, her feet still tangled with Hunk’s, but her two pillow friends gone, and their spots turned cold. When the rumbling in her stomach becomes enough of an incentive to get up and get food goo, she’ll find Shiro standing in front of Lance’s pod, dressed in his usual clothes. Keith will be in the kitchen, jacket and jeans and walls back up, and Pidge will smile and him, and he’ll nod back, and leave the kitchen to go stand next to Shiro. In the morning, Pidge won’t ask him about his family, even though she’ll want to. She won’t ask him what he’d do if Shiro was the one who ever went missing. She’s pretty sure she knows the answer, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol guess who lowkey, and i mean l o w k e y ships matt and keith just like a tiny little bit after season 4
> 
> also had to go back and rewatch some of season one because i didn't realize how long it takes to find out pidge is actually a girl and not a guy.
> 
> and finals week is fuckin killing me so don't expect anything until break starts which isn't for another two weeks so hahahahaha time for me to go die in the hellfire of exams


	4. you can't take that from me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i must have lied to myself when i initially said these got to be happier than the original AU bc wow all i know how to do is hurt keith? also this took way longer than anticipated, firstly because of finals (ur kid passed all their finals even physics its wild y'all) but then because hunk just would not let me end this god damn scene. 
> 
> unbeta'd all mistakes are mine etc etc lmk if anythings up
> 
> chapter title from help is on the way by rise against

If somebody were to ask Hunk what he was doing awake at some unreasonably early hour, roaming the halls of the castle, Hunk wouldn’t have an answer for them. If there was a nightmare, he didn’t have anything to remember it by other than the feeling he was being watched. If someone had passed by his room with loud steps, there had been no echo heard when he’d jolted awake. There was only this, now, going from room to room, making sure his friends were fine. Were safe.

He usually made these rounds before he went to bed, since all their rooms were on his way from the Yellow Lion’s hangar to his own bedroom, but he hadn’t done it tonight. Lance had been in the showers, doing some facial care routine; Pidge had been in her own hangar, working on more upgrades for Green. Shiro’d been on the observation deck with Allura, Coran, and Kolivan. Keith had been… Keith had been somewhere in the castle, but no one quite knew where. Hunk suspects Shiro had known, but Allura’s dismissal of Hunk’s questioning had left them all silent. Ever since Keith and Shiro returned from the Marmora base she’d been like this. And Hunk gets it, really, he does. Keith’s a Galra now, and the Galra had destroyed Altea. Killed Allura’s parents.

But Keith isn’t like the other Galra. First and foremost, even though Hunk might disagree with his strategies and tactics, Keith was their friend. The Red Paladin and right hand of Voltron. Hunk would laugh at the symmetry or Shiro’s prosthetic hand being made by the Galra and Keith, the paladin that made up the right arm of Voltron, turning out to be Galra, but it’s all a reminder of how much the Galra have taken from his team.

So here Hunk stands, having checked all of his other friends’ rooms, at the beginning of the hallway leading to Keith’s room. He can hear yelling, even from here. A nightmare, probably, because the alarms aren’t going off to signal an intruder. Hunk weighs his options: leave and let Keith deal with this on his own like he’s probably been doing since he learned the truth about his heritage, or go and help him, even though Keith might not want the comfort. It’s not a hard decision, even if Keith will have to deal with someone other than Shiro actually giving a shit about him. The hand scan doesn’t automatically open for Hunk when he tries it.

“Son of a- he’s gonna make me hack his door.” Hunk gets as far as prying the panel that hides the recognition wiring away from the wall when the door slides open. Keith is standing there, shadows smudged underneath his eyes, looking paler than a ghost. He’s not wearing a shirt, so the purple and black bruises covering his torso are fairly obvious, and not at all what Hunk was expecting. “Oh, wow, hey, Keith! Fancy seeing you here!” Hunk’s fumbling attempts to put the wall back together fail, the plate falling from his hands to clatter against the floor. Keith flinches away from the noise, taking a few steps further back into his room. “I’ll just-uh, be going, I guess.” Hunk picks the panel up and fixes it back on the wall. “But, uh, you okay, buddy?” Hunk looks back at Keith, where he’s barely illuminated by the hallway lights.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” The instant Keith starts talking, Hunk knows he’s lying. His words are wet and wobbly, the sound that only comes from tears. “Night, Hunk.” The door begins to slide shut and Hunk fits his hands between the frame and the door before he fully realizes what he’s doing. The door opens back up easily, and Hunk crosses the threshold, the door shutting behind him by itself. It’s almost entirely dark in Keith’s room, save the small nightlight in the corner that all the bedrooms have. The lights come on in full force, and Hunk has to cover his face for a few moments as his eyes adjust. Keith’s hand falls from the switch on the wall. “What are you doing, Hunk?”

Hunk can’t answer right away, mostly because he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, but also because under the bright, white light, Keith looks even worse. There’s an ugly gash in his trapezius, barely scabbed over. Bruises cover almost every inch of skin on Keith’s chest and upper arms. Hunk has no doubts his legs are just as bruised. There are darker blacks mixed in with the lighter bruising on his arms, and these must be the tattoos that Pidge told him about. Hunk isn’t sure she meant to, but she always got chatty when it was their third late night in a row, and they’d been working on Red at the time.

“I heard you from the hallway.” Hunk’s mouth is saying words that Hunk’s brain definitely did not authorize, what the hell. “Sounded like a hell of a nightmare, man.” Keith crosses his arms over his chest defensively, though Hunk can see how gentle he is about it. “You don’t have to talk, Keith, but…” Hunk remembers something he keeps in his room. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Hunk doesn’t really think about leaving, and how Keith probably won’t let him back in. Thought doesn’t really come back until he passes the way to Shiro’s room, and he slows. Shiro would know what to do. Hunk’s just winging it right now, and he’ll probably say the wrong thing like he kept seeming to do in the weblum. Keith didn’t seem to understand Hunk was just joking, mostly, and Hunk doesn’t want to set him off tonight, not when the early hours of the morning are for quiet and sleep.

“Hunk?” Huh, it seems Shiro was awake after all. “What are you doing up?” Hunk hid the healing salve behind his back, but he sees Shiro’s eyes track the tin as it disappears behind his body. “Are you okay?” It’s Shiro’s _I Care_ voice, and Hunk almost tells him because Shiro can handle Keith better than the rest of them combined. He takes a breath, opens his mouth, and realizes Shiro probably already knows about the bruising, and the tattoos, and what happened at the Marmora base. He was there. And since they got back, something had been different between them. They’re avoiding each other for a reason, and Hunk is smart enough to realize that now is not the time to stuff them in a room full of Keith’s problems and not much else.

“Nah, man, I’m fine, just a little burn.” After what was an almost three-minute hug between the two of them pre-mission, Shiro had shaken Keith’s shoulder and told him “ _Can’t wait to have you back_.” Hunk is entirely sure he wasn’t supposed to have heard it, but it was time to go and he’d been getting Keith to get into Yellow. “Was just heading back to my room now.” Shiro’s eyes narrow a fraction. His mouth is about to open, and Hunk needs to stop him right there before Shiro makes him spill everything. “Night, Shiro!” He starts speed walking to Keith’s room, which is in the direct opposite way from his. Shiro calls his name, but Hunk ignores it, only feeling slightly bad about it. Shiro can corner him later.

When he rounds the corner to Keith’s room, Hunk sees that the door never closed after he left. Keith is in the same position he was in when Hunk left five minutes ago, even though he seems asleep on his feet. Hunk sets the tin on Keith’s bedside table and gets the other paladin to sit on his bed.

“You came back.” Keith’s mouth barely moved, the words a breath Hunk easily could have missed. He sounds too tired to be surprised. Resigned, maybe. Hunk grabs the tin off the bedside table once he’s sure Keith isn’t going to be falling to the floor. The salve is thick and slightly green, and Hunk takes a few seconds to warm it up in his hands before grabbing one of Keith’s arms.

“’Course I did, buddy.” Keith is barely flinching at the pressure on his bruises; Hunk is trying to keep his touches gentle, but he knows it has to hurt anyway. “Didn’t get in a healing pod after this?” Hunk needs to know if Keith tried to take care of himself, like, at all post-beatdown. Keith’s shrug is a non-answer as much as it is an answer. Hunk doesn’t know if the Blade of Marmora even had the healing pod technology, doesn’t know if Kolivan offered it to Keith if they did. Isn’t sure if Keith would take it.

“Not important… had to be ready.” Keith’s eyes have been closed for the past five minutes, and Hunk was actually kind of sure he’d heard a snore, but even though the reply is late, it’s a reply that breaks Hunk’s heart. His thumb brushes the edge of the slice in Keith’s shoulder, and the shorter man jerks away from him, eyes flying open. “Shiro?” The words are too loud for the silence of a second ago and Hunk isn’t ready for Keith’s hand to grip his wrist so tight the bones grind together. “No, sorry, Hunk.” Keith’s eyes take a little too long to focus in on his face, so Hunk makes the executive decision that he still isn’t sure is the right one.

“Hey, Keith, I’ll be right back, okay? I just need to grab more bandages. It’ll only be a minute.” Keith’s grip on his arm loosens enough for Hunk to twist out of it, practically running to the door. He takes the walk to compose himself, and when he knocks on the door, it’s clear Shiro never went back to sleep after Hunk interrupted him earlier.

“Hunk? What’s wrong?” It’s that voice again. This time, Hunk can’t stop himself from telling Shiro about everything- the patrolling when he can’t sleep, hearing Keith’s nightmare, seeing Keith looking like he fought an ink factory and lost when it collapsed on him. Shiro’s shoulders grow stiffer, lips thinner, as Hunk talks. By the time he tells Shiro that Keith really, _really_ needs him, no matter what the hell happened in the Blade base, he’s paler that Hunk’s ever seen him. He also looks pissed as hell. “Alright. Let’s go.” Shiro leaves his room with barely a glance to make sure Hunk is really following, power-walking to Keith’s room. He stops in the doorway.

“Hunk?” Keith’s voice is still breath-soft, and Hunk wastes no time ducking around Shiro to sit next to Keith again on the bed. “What’s happening?” Keith’s words are slurred, and his eyes aren’t leaving Shiro, still stuck in the doorway. Hunk pats Keith’s back, and the Red Paladin closes his eyes and rests his forehead on Hunk’s shoulder. “Not real. Not real.” Hunk doesn’t really get what Keith is talking about, but it’s clear Shiro does by how his breath catches. Maybe this really was the wrong choice, after all.

“Keith, baby, please.” Hunk starts. He’d known that they were dating, of course, but hearing Shiro’s voice go all soft like it never did in front of the team made him feel like he was intruding. That was a much more intense version of his _I Care_ voice, a sound made of precious things and regret. Hunk shouldn’t be here, should have left when he’d gotten Shiro, should have never checked on Keith in the first place. “I’m real, I promise.” Hunk backs up, collides with the wall by the door. He shouldn’t be here, he needs to get back to his room, try and convince himself that this didn’t happen.

A growling in the back of his head stops him. It’s Yellow, and he’s… _displeased_. Yellow doesn’t really use words, not like Lance has said Blue does, doesn’t use code and calculations for a second language like Pidge and Green do. It’s all primal sounds and gut feelings and the sense of _pridefamilypride_ mixed up in Hunk’s chest that only forming Voltron ever really calms down anymore. Hunk knows if he leaves now, Yellow will grumble his way through every mission for the next few weeks. It was the same when he had to leave the Castle to go to the Balmera with Coran for the crystal. Yellow doesn’t like it when his pride is hurting, even if Hunk can’t help it at all. He’s a leg, damn it. He’s there to help the rest of them stand tall, no matter what.

“God, Shiro, I just don’t know.” Keith twisted himself out of Shiro’s grip, his arms coming up to bracket his head. “I just don’t know who I am, anymore.” Fingers went pale as they pulled at his hair. “Don’t know what’s real.” His breathing was coming quicker. “What’s even left?” Shoulders were shaking and Shiro reached out a hand – his real hand, not the Galra one, Shiro never touched them with _that_ hand – but Keith jerked away, gasping for air. “Monster.” Shiro’s hand fell back, every line of his body tensing. “I’m a-.” There were tears, Hunk was sure. “I’m a monster.”

“Come on, Keith.” And that was way too loud, way too much, Shiro taking a shocked step back, must not have noticed Hunk was even still here. He keeps going anyway. “You know who you are. Being, like, half purple, fuzzy alien didn’t change anything.” Keith’s eyes are looking in his direction, but through him, unseeing. “It’s not like you spontaneously grew a tail, right?” Hunk nears the bed, where Keith is incredibly small. “You’re still just Keith.” Shiro is at the foot of the bed. “You still train way too much.” Hunk risks putting his hand on Keith’s arm. “You still pilot Red.” Hunk doesn’t know why he expected the ink to feel any different than skin. “You still scare the hell out of me, sometimes.” Shiro moves, but Hunk doesn’t tear his gaze from Keith’s.

“Hunk.” He realizes Shiro means well, but Keith’s eyes are focusing, and his breathing is evening out. He’ll apologize later.

“You still don’t get any of our jokes.” Hunk laughs, and Keith’s mouth twitches the smallest bit. “We still love you.” Shiro’s breathing is unsteady behind him, and even Hunk is feeling rather over emotional, but it’s about time Keith _knew_. “No matter what, you’re my brother, Keith.” Keith’s fingers unclench themselves enough to grasp Hunk’s hand. “Mine and Lance’s and Pidge’s and we love you.” Hunk fits himself around where Keith is still curled up. “That’s real.” Keith’s head falls heavy on his shoulder. “I promise.” Hunk rocks him back and forth for a few moments, and that’s all it takes for Keith’s fingers to go slack around his. Shiro comes to help him get Keith back under the covers, smooths out his hair with gentle ( _human_ ) fingers.

“Thanks, Hunk. Really.” Shiro sounds so tired, and Hunk remembers how young he really is. Hunk turns to face him, at last.

“It’s nothing, Shiro.” Shiro’s hand comes up between them to cut Hunk’s words off.

“It’s everything. It’s good for him to know, especially now, how much we all care about him.” Yellow growls in his head, but it’s more of an agreement than a chastisement. He doesn’t like his pride hurting. If Hunk’s honest, he hates it, too.

“We’re all each other have got, Shiro. We need to help each other.” Shiro’s open arms are coming toward him, telegraphing every move, giving Hunk enough time to stop him. Screw that. Hunk hugs Shiro as tightly as he can and hears several vertebrae pop down his spine. He holds on for a few seconds longer. “See you tomorrow, Shiro.” Hunk lets go and turns for the door.

“Night, Hunk. Get some sleep.” Shiro curls himself against the headboard of Keith’s bed in a way that looks practiced and not entirely uncomfortable. Hunk just hopes he gets some sleep tonight, too. They have a long couple of days ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! Just one more chapter to go!!!!


	5. our only chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coran needs to make sure Keith knows his death would destroy them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp here we are. last chapter. less painful than originally anticipated. what a way to end the year. takes place like immediately post season 4, like they land inside the castleship and boom, this fic happens
> 
> unbeta'd all mistakes are mine, the whole schtick. give me a heads up if there are glaring mistakes thx
> 
> chapter title from live forever from moment by moment by alexander sage oyen

Finding Number Four was proving to be much harder than Coran initially thought it would be. There were only three Blades in the Castle at the present moment, the former paladin included in that number, and yet Coran could only see two purple suits; both bodies were much too tall to be Keith, not to mention Kolivan didn’t have as many fingers as Keith, and the other Blade had a tail. No, the previous Red Paladin was decidedly missing. Or, Coran thought as he took another turn around the room, he was avoiding everyone else.

For good reason, Coran supposes, as he’d almost died a few vargas prior, and doubtless needed space to process what had almost happened. What Lotor had stopped from happening. He’s sitting in a cell somewhere in the recesses of the Castleship, and Coran cannot bring himself to go down there just yet.

Coran finally found the missing paladin tucked away in the Red Lion’s hangar. On his first initial scan of the hangar, Coran hadn’t seen anyone, but Keith was hidden between crates of scrap and the edge of the hangar. He was still wearing the Blade suit, even though it was torn in places, and there was blood crusting the edge of one of the arms.

“There you are, Number Four!” He started violently at Coran’s voice. Given the gentle way he uncurled himself from his hiding spot, he’d been there for a long time, probably since they’d all gotten back. “You don’t care to join the others upstairs?” Keith winced at his overly cheerful tone. He gestured with his bloody arm towards the lion.

“She was… angry.” He looked back at her. “She wanted to,” he looked at the ground, “Talk.” The way he said it made Coran think the that Keith and Red had done something a lot less civil than talk. He remembers when Alfor still piloted the Red Lion, when his king would remark on the lion’s fierce protectiveness of her paladin. It seemed some things didn’t change.

“That was quite a stunt you pulled, back there. Had us all worried.” Keith looks up at Coran for a brief moment before looking back at the floor. He shrugs.

“It’s not like you guys need me anymore.” Coran just barely keeps his jaw from falling to the floor. “Besides, the rest of them don’t even know what happened.” Coran clears his throat and puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He doesn’t recoil from the touch, but only just.

“I had a nephew your age, once.” It _hurts_ to talk about him in the past tense, hurts in a way Coran has not let himself feel because that boy was one of the brightest joys in Coran’s life before it all got taken away from him by power-hungry beasts and a universe gone all wrong. Coran just wants him _back_. “He died, saving his friends.” It was near the beginning of the war, back when Zarkon had only been mad with grief, not with power.

“I’m sorry, Coran.” He does sound it, like he actually realizes his sacrifice could have destroyed Voltron. “I just want to keep them safe.” He sounds too old, older than Coran feels most days; it sounds like Red made him live through the past ten thousand years in her mindscape. Keith looks at Red again. “I don’t know how, anymore.” Coran uses the hand he’s got on Keith’s shoulder to tuck him against one side, arm draping over shoulders.

“Come along, Number Four. I’ve something to show you.” Coran guides him to the memory room, where Alfor used to stand. Coran’s stored some of his most precious memories there, ones he will not allow time to forget. He pulls up the image of his nephew, the group of people he saved, and the details of his death. “This is him.” Keith looks intently up into a face that he thinks is too young for battle. He doesn’t know how Alteans age, doesn’t know anything about lifespans or ages of maturity, but this child had to be even younger than he was. “These are the people he gave his life for.”

“Oh, my God.” It seems like Coran’s nephew saved a small village, at least fifty people gathered in pale pink mourning clothes, Coran himself front and center of the photo. “He saved your life.” Keith’s fingers come up as if to touch the hologram, but he refrains. Coran nods.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. And not a second would pass that your team would not miss you, should your earlier plans have carried through.” His still raised hand clenches into a fist, but it looks more like he’s holding himself back from something.

“They would have understood.” His head twitches to look over his shoulder at something Coran cannot see. “Yes, they would, Red. They’d have understood, and they would have gotten over it.” His hands clap against his ears, though Coran knows no physical barrier can keep out the roar of a lion over mental link. His voice raises to match his lion’s soundless volume. “They don’t need me!” He drops to his knees, eyes still screwed up against whatever his lion is yelling. Coran hesitates to follow but ultimately curls his arms around the shaking boy.

“You’re okay, Keith.” He’s still talking to the Red Lion, is still fighting a losing battle against her. Coran knows that she has the pent-up rage of the last ten thousand years still thrumming in her core. Her rumbling growl reverberates in his skull for the smallest moment, and Coran knows what he has to do. “If you’d like, the Red Lion and I could give you a reminder. One that you can carry with you always.” Keith had explained to Allura the history of his markings, how he used them as reminders, as a way to keep track of who he was, and who he’d loved.

“Yeah,” Keith’s voice is a gentle sigh, barely there, “That would be nice.” He’s stopped shaking but the tear tracks on his cheeks are still drying. Coran doesn’t know much about how humans age, but he’s stayed up during sleep cycles with Shiro, talked with him enough to know that humans, compared to Alteans, don’t live very long. Allura, given age equivalents, is close to their maturity level, but Coran is old enough to be their father, feels the centuries in his bones when holding a life that’s been in the universe a mere fraction of his time.

“Come on, then.” Coran waves away the images of people he’s lost, but not before giving them a bow of respect. Keith copies him, but his movements are stilted in unfamiliarity. Coran appreciates the sentiment regardless. “We’ll have to go back to the Lion bays.”

They don’t run into anyone on the way, and Coran doesn’t know if that’s a relief or not. On one hand, Keith seems to be mostly calm in a way he decidedly hadn’t been around his former team, on the other, the rest of the team is human, and could know what Keith needed far more than Coran ever could. The reenter the Red Lion’s hangar, where she’s sitting proud and tall, no barrier in front of her.

“Sit.” Keith hesitates a moment, so Coran pulls him to the floor to sit cross legged across from him, right under the Red Lion’s nose. “I’ve never done this to a human before, but I have done this to a Galra with no adverse side effects, so you’re probably safe.” Coran puts his hand near the crook of Keith’s elbow.

“What do you mean ‘probably’?” Keith’s voice is mildly wary, but he doesn’t move his arm. He looks up at Red. “Well, what’s that supposed to mean?” Coran is not privy to the half-mental, half-verbal conversation between lion and paladin, so he simply puts his hands around Keith’s bicep, just above where his arm bends. His hands glow green for a brief moment, the color of his own personal markings, before diffusing into a much brighter red. Coran is about to move his hands, but the color changes again.

“Well, now, that’s not supposed to happen.” Keith makes an aborted noise, but a sound much older creeps into Coran’s mind. It’s not words, but a conversation happens nonetheless. “Why, thank you, Red Lion. That does make sense.” The glow shifts again, turning from soft blue to a vibrant orange. Keith had created so much of himself from pieces of other people that his soul no longer belonged only to himself. Orange to a pure white, and Coran has to look away.

“What’s happening?” Keith hasn’t looked away, and Coran supposes that it must be strange, looking at your soul-mark being put into your skin but not knowing what it is. The white shifts into a steady brown, which shifts rapidly into a dark purple.

“The Red Lion and I are giving you the marks Alteans are born with. It seems, however, that because you are human, you aren’t solely yourself.” From there the colors move quickly, whirling from purple into a mossy green- an ocean blue- a warm yellow that Coran recognizes as the other paladins. Allura’s pale pink shines briefly before being replaced by his own green glow. The light fades after a few ticks, and Coran’s eyes adjust to the dimness. “Who you are is also made up of several other people: the lights you saw were the people you hold closest to you, who make you who you are today.” Keith is still looking at his arm, but he nods.

“Can I see what it looks like?” Coran hums an affirmative, and helps Keith removes his right sleeve. There, moving in a configuration Coran has never seen, is Keith’s soul-mark. It must be a human thing, Coran decides, to have so many colors, and so much movement in a soul, because his own mark has been still since maturity, the same dependable green since birth. Coran has never met a species so fascinating. “It’s beautiful.” Keith finally looks up at Coran. “Thank you.” Coran’s laugh is bright and loud, and shocks Keith out of whatever stupor he’d been in.

“Not a problem, m’boy!” They stand, pulling each other up. “Just promise me you’ll remember that we love you, if you’re sitting in that Lion or not. You will always be a part of Voltron.” Keith gives one last look at the colors spinning on his skin before pulling his sleeve back on. 

“Promise.” Keith’s smile is fragile, but there, and Coran beams all the brighter for it.

“Now, let’s go see the others, hmm?” Keith lets out feeble protests, the Red Lion purring in the back of his head. Curled around his shoulder, Coran’s soul shifts, wiggling a bit, the slightest hint of red edging into one of the corners. _Hmph,_ Coran thinks. _Humans_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap kids. might have more up my sleeve but idk maybe not for a while unless y'all got ideas. let me know how you liked it!!!!
> 
> also, before anyone asks, yeah Keith is 18, and Coran is 288. I think of Alteans as elves, basically, they live like 500 years. Allura's like, 130. I worried less about her age than Coran's tbh. Also, i have no clue what other markings Alteans have under their clothes so who knows if the ones on their faces are the only ones. shrug emoji.
> 
> the colors in order that they appear for the people they're supposed to symbolize: keith ('brighter red'), eliana ('soft blue'), chandra ('vibrant orange') [if you didn't read 'don't go, i can't follow' those are the parents i created for keith], shiro ('pure white'), matt ('steady brown'), shiro again, post-kerberos ('dark purple'), pidge ('mossy green'), lance ('ocean blue'), hunk ('warm yellow'), allura ('pale pink'), and coran ('his own green glow'). also, in case it wasn't clear, the shape is supposed to be the universe, but like it's ever expanding and moving and stuff so there's no concrete way it looks

**Author's Note:**

> Guess how many god damn times I wrote atlantean instead of altean in this fic??? Bc I decided that working on a young justice piece at the same time as this one was a good idea. And in that one there were so many alteans that were supposed to be atlanteans these words are too close together for me I'm d y I n g


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